


Let Loose Your Thoughts

by veiledndarkness



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-06
Updated: 2012-05-06
Packaged: 2017-11-04 22:27:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/398889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veiledndarkness/pseuds/veiledndarkness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drunk lips speak the truth. Written for the twd_kinkmeme on Livejournal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Loose Your Thoughts

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt: _Merle is bored one weekend and decides to get Daryl drunk for his amusement. (I'd like it if Daryl were 17 or 18). You know what they say - a drunken mind speaks sober thoughts. Little Daryl starts confessing how much he admires his big brother Merle and his big strong body and how he just wants to curl up in his lap/arms, the whole time telling Merle how much he loves him. But his confessions start to get more and more inappropriately sexual._

It’s much funnier than he expected. Much easier too, he thinks as he tips the bottle, lettin’ the amber liquid flow into the waiting shot glass. He’s more amused than he ought to be, but this is priceless. 

Daryl’s blinkin’ owlishly at him, far past tipsy an’ he’s hanging onto the kitchen chair for dear life ‘cause his legs an’ arms ain’t listening to what he’s telling them. His eyes are kinda glazed an’ the smile on his face is this side of sweet merging into shy. 

With nothin’ else to do an’ even the prospect of goin’ into town and finding somethin’ to get up to seemed boring, Merle had found himself with the predicament of how to rustle up some entertainment. That had lasted all of five minutes until his gaze had fallen on Daryl. 

He smirks and pushes the shot glass across the dingy surface of the table. “C’mon, yer fallin’ behind,” he says, watchin’ Daryl’s tongue creep along his bottom lip. “Thought you said you was a man but ya sure as shit can’t drink like one.”

“Shut up,” Daryl screws up his face at him, tryin’ (and failin’) to sneer at him, with all the dignity a drunken teenager can manage. “Gimme that.”

He’s downin’ the shots like a pro but there’s no stoppin’ the wince on the boy’s face. Merle laughs an’ shakes his head. He tips the bottle to his mouth an’ downs the equivalent of a shot before settin’ the bottle back down with a satisfied grunt. 

“Lookatcha,” he says, his lips pursed in disapproval. “Barely had any an’ yer all over the place. Lord knows how I’m gonna make a man outta you yet if ya can’t even take more n’ a shot or two.”

There’s a flicker of somethin’ in the boy’s eyes, a need for approval but Daryl blinks the look away an’ reaches across the table, snaggin’ the bottle from Merle’s hands. “Can too,” he snaps with a bit of a pout. “I ain’t a kid anymore y’know.”

“Jus’ cause ya got some hair on yer balls, that don’t make you a man,” Merle sneers at him an’ yeah, he loves it when there’s that flash of fire on the boy’s face. He wouldn’t respect the kid at all if he didn’t get pissed off at the teasin’.

Daryl’s cheeks are flushed, his eyes are hazy an’ he’s lickin’ his lips like he’s doped up good. He sucks the bottle into his mouth an’ tilts his head back, tryin’ to chug but it’s too much an’ the alcohol’s burnin’ his throat by the looks of it. He sputters an’ droplets cling to his lips, his throat workin’ as he chokes. 

“Yeah, some big man,” Merle laughs harder an’ snags the bottle back from Daryl. “You ain’t no man yet, jus’ some scrawny kid an’ you know it.”

Daryl stares down at the tabletop, his lips curled downwards. “Won’t always be,” he mutters, almost under his breath. “I bet even you weren’t all…when you was younger.”

“Bet I wasn’t what?”

“Big…” Daryl’s close to poutin’ and that’s fuckin’ hilarious to Merle. “Muscled n’ shit.”

“Well hell boy, that kinda thing takes time. Yer only seventeen and it ain’t like that happens overnight,” Merle’s smilin’ inwardly though. Daryl’s liftin’ his head a bit, smilin’ that fuckin’ smile at him an’ it’s almost too sweet a smile. 

He pours Daryl another shot an’ listens to his brother ramble on, his gestures sloppier by the minute, his head boppin’ away as he talks an’ Merle’s thinkin’ that he oughta get the boy liquored up more often. 

“…Jus’ wanna be like you,” Daryl’s mumblin’ as he stares at Merle, slumped further over the edge of the table. “Hate bein’ small like this…wanna be like you, bigger, an’ stronger n’ tougher, ain’t nowhere safe t’ be when yer little.”

Merle blinks at that and he’s caught off guard a bit by Daryl’s confession. “What?”

“Wanna be tough like you,” Daryl’s eyes are bright, overly bright an’ he’s movin’, slipping out of his chair on rubbery legs, “M’ safer with you.”

And he’s fumblin’ forward, would’ve hit the floor, but Merle’s faster than that. He catches the kid ‘fore he hits the dirty linoleum an’ fuck, the kid makes this little happy noise an’ he’s pressin’ against Merle.

“Yeah,” he whispers, “Right here, safe here, wanna stay here, right here.”

Merle’s sits back down, an’ funnily enough, he ain’t laughin’ ‘cause Daryl’s scramblin’ to sit on his lap the way he used to when he was a tiny scrap of a kid. He’s tryin’ to think of what to say when Daryl curls up more, his head tucked under Merle’s chin, wrigglin’ like he can’t sit still. 

“Wanna be like you,” Daryl breathes against him. “Ain’t nobody tougher than you, heard all them stories in town ‘bout how no one fucks wit’ you an’ comes out without a damn good beatin’. Love you, Merle,” he adds when he pauses to catch his breath. 

Merle runs one hand up an’ down Daryl’s back, feelin’ the way the boy presses against him, cat-like. “Is that so, huh?”

“Uh huh,” Daryl nods eagerly, bumpin’ his head against Merle’s chin. “I do, know I ain’t s’posed to say so, but I do. Ain’t nobody like you,” he says with all the certainty of the world an’ the slur in his words doesn’t take away the surge of warmth that Merle feels. 

“That’s right,” he murmurs, strokin’ his hand through Daryl’s shaggy hair, listenin’ to the happy noises the boy’s makin’ as he touches him.

“Love you too much,” Daryl whispers an’ the tips of his ears are bright pink. “Can’t help it though, I can’t, I try ev’ry night but it always happens an’ I give in. Don’t wantcha to hate me for it.”

Merle’s eyebrows go up at that an’ he grips the boy’s hair, tuggin’ his head back to look at him. “Whatcha been doin’?” he demands with a growl an’ damn it if the kid doesn’t whine a little, his hips wrigglin’ about faster. 

“I…I can’t help it, Merle,” Daryl pleads, the tip of his pink tongue dartin’ out to moisten his lips. “I jus’…I look atcha an’ I get so hard. Can’t sleep ‘less I do it, touch m’self thinkin’ ‘bout you.”

Merle stares at him for a long moment an’ he smiles slowly, makin’ a sound of disapproval out loud an’ givin’ him mild glare. “You know that ain’t right, baby brother. You know it’s wrong, don’tcha?”

“I don’t care!” Daryl snaps hotly, his face as pink as his ears. 

“Don’t you sass me, boy,” Merle yanks his hair roughly an’ gives the boy a shake. “Yer jus’ drunk, that’s all.”

Daryl whines softly again, strugglin’ to get free an’ push against him again. “No,” he insists. “No, I ain’t that drunk, I swear, it’s true. I love you; I want ya to touch me…I wanna get fucked by you, I don’t want no one else.”

And with that, Merle stares at him some more, shocked into silence. Daryl squirms closer to him, lips ghostin’ over his neck as his hands reach down an’ fumble with Merle’s belt an’ he’d be lyin’ if he said he hadn’t had more n’ a few of those thoughts himself over the last few years. He can feel how hard the boy is against him an’ he entertains the thought of pushin’ the boy onto the table an’ fuckin’ him good. 

Daryl’s fingers are quick, nimble. He’s mouthin’ at Merle’s neck, whisperin’ over and over that he loves him, let him show how much an’ that’s pushin’ Merle’s self restraint to the edge. He’s still got his arm ‘round the boy an’ Daryl’s hitching his hips forward, rubbing against him with somethin’ like desperation.

“Gonna be like you someday,” Daryl moans into Merle’s neck, buckin’ forward when Merle’s hand stills near his backside. “Please…Jus’ this once, I wanna…need you t’ touch me.”

“You want it that bad, baby brother,” Merle whispers, his voice uneven. He’s starin’ at nothin’, his hands movin’ freely over Daryl’s hips and ass, groping him without thinkin’ about it. “Gonna show me how much you love me, that it?”

Daryl keens and nods, his fingers slidin’ under Merle’s pants, past the belt ends an’ the touch of his brother’s fingers to his achingly hard cock is the shock that makes him suck in a breath through his teeth. 

“Love you,” Daryl moans into Merle’s skin, his fingers grippin’ Merle tight. 

He spends a moment thinkin’ that gettin’ Daryl this drunk wasn’t his best idea in the long run, but he wants so fuckin’ badly to press his fingers inside Daryl, feel how tight an’ hot he’d be ‘round his fingers that he tells that thought to fuck right off. 

Daryl’s whimperin’ against his neck, whisperin’ and askin’ again an’ again, and really, how much is Merle s’posed to resist when Daryl’s beggin’ like this? He’s tuggin’ at the boy’s jeans, bringin’ the baggy material lower, exposin’ the worn boxers an’ the warm, smooth skin of Daryl’s lower back. 

He strokes over the soft, young skin an’ listens to Daryl pant. His lips curve in a twisted smile as he brings a finger up to Daryl’s chin, brushin’ up an’ over his lips. “Open yer mouth,” he whispers roughly an’ he’s more than pleased when Daryl does so, suckin’ his finger right past those pink lips. 

“Yeah,” he chokes on a breath, watchin’ Daryl suckle at his finger, feelin’ that slick tongue rub over his flesh. “Fuck, like that…”

Daryl snuffles an’ his wrist jerks as he tries his best to stroke Merle, but the angle’s all wrong. With a bit of reluctance, Merle pulls his finger back, watchin’ it slide free with a lewd slurp. 

“Christ boy,” he mutters an’ he’s bringin’ his finger back down, rubbin’ in a slow circle between the boy’s cheeks, pleased by the way Daryl’s movements stutter to a halt. 

“You gonna show me, huh? Show me yer a man now, right?” Merle croons at him, pushin’ the tip of his finger in while Daryl’s distracted by the new feelin’. “C’mon, show me how much you love me.”

Daryl lets out a choked wail an’ pushes down as Merle manipulates more of his finger inside him. “Fuck! Fuck…”

Merle works him over, slow an’ steady, keepin’ the boy from comin’ too soon. He can feel how hard Daryl is; feel the wetness drippin’ down on his thigh. Daryl’s given up tryin’ to move his wrist. He’s pantin’ against Merle’s neck, his fingers flexin’ an’ fluttering around Merle’s cock as he’s prepped. 

“Merle,” Daryl whimpers, pressin’ sweet little kisses along his chin, sweat beadin’ along his forehead. “I want…fuck, please!”

“You wanna get fucked real good, don’tcha?” Merle laughs an’ spins the boy, pushin’ him face down on the table, next to the bottle of booze. 

Daryl’s jeans and boxers slide down his narrow thighs and pool on the floor around his ankles. He’s tremblin’ an’ his palms are leavin’ sweat streaks on the table beneath them. Merle savours the moment, of watchin’ Daryl like this, beggin’ for him. 

“Merle,” Daryl’s bitin’ at his lips. “Wantcha so bad,” he whispers thickly, his voice this side of broken. 

He waits a moment longer before slidin’ his finger back in, watchin’ as Daryl’s hips buck forward. He’s half on the table; hair hangin’ in his eyes as Merle works his finger back an’ forth, addin’ a second one slowly. 

The sound of Daryl’s whimpers an’ moans are music to his ears. He can feel the boy tremblin’ harder, feel him clenchin’ round his fingers. He spits on his fingers, slickin’ the boy as much as he can. Daryl’s all but yowlin’ like a cat, ridin’ his fingers an’ grippin’ the table to stay upright. He’s mutterin’ Merle’s name in between breathy pleas, his cock nearly upright an’ slappin’ at his belly, sticky pre-cum coating the tip. 

Merle runs his thumb over the wet tip, slicking it down an’ over the length of Daryl’s cock. He smirks at the desperation in his brother an’ jus’ when he’s pretty sure Daryl can’t take it any more, he jams two fingers in deep, rubbin’ hard against that one spot while his hand closes tight around the base, an’ Daryl nearly screams, ruttin’ frantically into the air. 

“Turn ‘round,” he barks, spinnin’ the boy back to face him. 

Daryl’s eyes are blown wide, his face a bright pink, his lips open as he gasps for air. “Please!” he cries as he throws himself back at Merle, scramblin’ back onto his lap, yankin’ at his pants till his cock is free, ready for him.

Merle grips his hip an’ steadies the boy, lowerin’ him inch by inch. Daryl’s bitin’ at his lips again, whinin’ lowly as he’s filled with the long length of his brother. He’s breathin’ hard through his nose, strugglin’ to stop from squirming. 

“Now you g’on an’ show me,” Merle demands, lockin’ eyes with Daryl, his hands on Daryl’s hips, loosely. “Do it.”

Daryl shudders, a full body shudder and he lifts up, usin’ Merle’s broad shoulders for leverage. He’s unsteady at first; unsure of his movements, but Lord, Merle’s pleased to see his little brother is a fast learner. He’s rockin’ up and down soon enough, his chest hitchin’ in hard with each breath, his legs flexing as he moves. 

“Lookatcha,” Merle whispers, smoothin’ one big hand over Daryl’s sweat soaked hair. “Bet you been wantin’ to get fucked good for a long time now. Sucha good boy, that’s my baby brother,” he says with genuine affection an’ that’s Daryl’s undoing. 

He comes with a strangled wail, his head fallin’ forward to rest on Merle’s shoulder, his hips jerkin’ up an’ down erratically an’ it’s the whimpers that fall from the boy’s lips that make his orgasm all the sweeter. He slams Daryl down hard an’ comes, floodin’ into the boy with a sharp hiss of relief. 

Daryl mouths small kisses along Merle’s own sweat damp neck, nuzzlin’ in closer, his body limp against him. “Love ya,” he whispers, eyes already half closed. 

Merle rubs his hands along Daryl’s hips, pantin’ a bit himself. He licks his lips an’ settles for holdin’ his brother a little closer for the moment. The alcohol bottle gleams in the dim light, close to the pair of them, less than half the liquid left. 

“Love ya too,” he mutters under his breath.


End file.
